<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>eyes, the lamp of the body by green_piggy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017318">eyes, the lamp of the body</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_piggy/pseuds/green_piggy'>green_piggy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Existential Angst, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Let Pandoria Kiss Girls 2K20, Male-Female Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective, Religious Discussion, Trust Issues, Worldbuilding, pre-game, so many headcanons, this honestly isn't a very happy fic but turters shows up so that's something, when the second chapter is published</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:26:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_piggy/pseuds/green_piggy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to remain in Indol to recover from her near-death experience, Pandoria finds herself befriending the fabled 'Goddess of Indol', Fan la Norne.</p>
<p>Behind Fan's empty eyes, though, all Pandoria could see was a storm of brewing emotions. Resentment. Envy. <i>Loneliness.</i><br/>And none of that was mentioning that Fan, too, was missing a part of her Core Crystal.</p>
<p>Really — how could Pandoria <i>not</i> be even a little bit curious?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kasumi | Fan la Norne | Haze/Saika | Pandoria, Zeke von Genbu &amp; Saika | Pandoria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>eyes, the lamp of the body</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>if pneuma can have religious titties i can have little a religious fic title, as a treat</p>
<p>me, making this ship tag: i have to do everything myself around here smh. pandy should smooch girls</p>
<p>anyone who knows me at all knows this but just for new folk: i don’t ship pandoria and zeke romantically in any form. I never will do in any of my fics. i see their relationship as a big sister and little brother and i ask you to please not interpret any of my writing of them as romantic. thanks! nothing against people who do, that’s just how i roll. platonic relationships are just as important and fulfilling as romantic relationships [DABS]</p>
<p>i could ramble for 3000 years here but honestly. it's a 15k chapter (yes there will be a second part! it will be done uhhhhhh one day. when all the planets align and there's a blood moon, maybe). i'll let the fic talk for itself. basically it's a really deep dive into the natures of blades and their dynamics and how haze and pandy both deserved better and [shoves a microphone into my mouth] MMMGHHGHHHMMM</p>
<p>honestly this fic is kind of a love letter to this game. i love xenoblade 2 so so SO much. thank you for existing</p>
<p>hope you enjoy~ &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It turned out that, hey, almost dying was a pretty exhausting experience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right after Pandoria’s conversation with Amalthus, who left her skin prickling and itching with an uneasiness she couldn’t put words to, and checking in on her prince once again (it was still so </span>
  <em>
    <span>surreal </span>
  </em>
  <span>seeing that jut of ether blue from his heart. Knowing that she had saved his life… it was both strangely heart-warming and heart-wrenching simultaneously), she’d apparently just — gone and passed out for a good few hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Indeed, she only tore herself from the dredges of unconsciousness, from that cosy, hazy place, when she felt a presence in the room that was neither her nor her prince’s. A shift in the ether that she couldn’t identify. It felt like a gentle breeze ruffling her hair, but she knew better than to be fooled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Making sure to keep as quiet as she could, Pandoria cracked open one eye and glanced over to her left. The rooms were well-lit, even at this late hour, so it wasn’t difficult to see that there was someone standing over Zeke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instinct kicked in; she threw herself out of the bed, forming the Big Bang Wand in her hand—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she hadn’t even finished creating the wand before a tremendous </span>
  <em>
    <span>pressure </span>
  </em>
  <span>made her gasp and wheeze, clutching at her burning Core Crystal. She fell on one knee, then the other. It was as if somebody had heaved Genbu onto her shoulders. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke. Architect, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zeke.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“D-don’t—” Her lungs were burning— “don’t touch him!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blue ether, too warm to be ice, too cold to be water, burst forth from near the person’s head. Was that the source of — whatever this was? This suffocating weight on her entire body?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Zeke — he was still recovering from having almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>died—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I mean it!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The person turned slowly with a strange type of sereneness in their movement. Long, chestnut-brown hair swayed along with their long sleeves and robes. But none of that caught Pandoria’s attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All she could stare at was the Core Crystal on her chest — or, at least, what remained of it. There was no way that it was naturally triangular-shaped; Core Crystals just didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>like that, and it was evident where the other half was meant to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria wasn’t the only one like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then; just </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>was this person?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean neither of you harm,” came a gentle voice. Pandoria’s gaze snapped upwards from the Core Crystal to the saddest smile she’d ever seen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the next thing to get her notice. In those sombre yellow eyes was a vast unnatural emptiness that chilled her to the bone. It made her want to snap her gaze away. It was the kind of look that, at first sight, if you weren’t looking too closely, you would find kind. But if you dug a bit, even just a little, you wanted to bury it right back up again and pretend that you’d never disturbed it at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Fan la Norne,” the woman continued. She rested one hand over her chest. Her other hand gripped a long crosier that, at its top, held that pulsing ball of ether energy that Pandoria had seen earlier. “I am a Blade of the Praetor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amalthus?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A nod. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria’s fingers twitched around the handle of her wand. Even though air came to her easily now, that pressure was still there. When she tried to move her wand… nothing. Her glasses were slipping down her nose. “...Why are you here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am also a healer.” Fan gave Pandoria a smile that she suspected was meant to be kind, but all it did was further unnerve her. It was that same sensation from when she’d been talking to Amalthus. All his slight smile had done was make it feel as though countless Love Beetles were wiggling about just underneath her skin. He made a good attempt at showing kindness, but a person’s eyes never lied, and his were brimming with a darkness that would have put the Great Void to shame. “I was checking in on your Driver.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If — if that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re doin’,” Pandoria snarled, “do </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>a favour and stop this — whatever it is!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Fan blinked. “My apologies.” She brought her other hand to her crosier and lowered it against the ground, its blue light fading. Pandoria spluttered on the sudden influx of air that rushed down her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scrambled to her feet, her wand dangling from her hand. She shoved her glasses back up with a shaking finger, smudging the glass on her first attempt. Her legs were trembling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not hurt, are you?” Finally, some semblance of emotion slithered into her eyes. The genuine-appearing concern in them as she leaned forward was somehow more jarring than the nothingness that Pandoria had seen before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah.” Pandoria brushed her aside. One eye on Fan, she leaned over Zeke to check him over. His chest was moving slightly, she could feel air puff in and out of his mouth, and the chunk of her Core Crystal in his chest pulsed in harmony with her own. It was still… eerie. In a good </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a pleasant change of pace, a Blade being able to look after and protect their Driver. But knowing that she was the only thing keeping him </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Well. Not quite so pleasant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turters was snoozing on the other side of his chest. She gave his head a tiny pat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're a terrible bodyguard, y'know that?" she whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Predictably, Turters didn't reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stood up again and allowed herself to relax, even just a little. Her wand dissipated with wisps of electric ether. Fan hadn’t harmed him. He was fine. Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>goodness.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you satisfied?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tried not to jump. Fan’s face gave nothing away as to whether or not she noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yeah.” She squeezed her hands together in front of her. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those two words felt as though she was saying them through cotton candy, struggling to leave her mouth, but Fan just tilted her head slightly and gave a polite smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she asked. “I heard what had happened. You must be tired as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” She blinked. It took a few seconds to realise that, yeah, Fan was asking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She glanced away. “I’m alright.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>She wasn’t, really. She felt like a piece of Genbu-Weave Cloth that was way too old and well-used, torn and frayed to its very limits. The urge to just — slam the bed head-first and sleep for a long time was all she could think about,</span> <span>but she had to keep an eye on Zeke. She couldn’t trust anyone else to do it. Especially not right now.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Fan hummed. “You should still rest,” she eventually said, both of her hands on her crosier’s handle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria bit out. “Great! Terrific! Never been better!” She made a show of squatting and stretching out her arms, even though all it did was make her body ache even more. She jumped back onto her feet to Fan’s slight frown. “So you can, y’know. Leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you need healing—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria’s raised voice brought the room into silence. She gripped her elbow so tightly that she could feel her nails digging into her skin, even through her glove. Why couldn’t this woman just </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria didn’t know her. How could she be expected to trust someone she hadn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>met </span>
  </em>
  <span>until five minutes ago?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How many times, in her ten years of existence, had she been given blank smiles and hollow promises before being stabbed in the back? She’d lost count. And here was Fan, acting exactly as all those other people had, with her vacant eyes and smile that held nothing, nothing at all. Most people didn’t give a damn about a stranger. Who would? What </span>
  <em>
    <span>reason </span>
  </em>
  <span>would they have had for doing so?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even she and her prince could only do so much to help people. Royal titles meant nothing to most citizens, to the Gormotti who had to toil relentlessly under Mor Ardain’s reign just to export everything they produced, to the average Urayan who watched taxes go up and up and </span>
  <em>
    <span>up </span>
  </em>
  <span>and could do nothing about it, to the countless Ardainians who starved because of a lack of crops on their dying Titan. And when people grew desperate… that was when you couldn’t trust them. A parent would do anything for their child, a lover would go to any length for their partner, a person would crawl to the World Tree on their hands and knees for their loved ones…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a dying world like Alrest, as the years dragged on, more and more people became heinous. No matter how hard you tried to help people — no matter how many people she and Zeke (mainly him, admittedly) helped out, from grazing amus to fixing roofs to assisting with monster extermination, nothing ever really </span>
  <em>
    <span>changed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sure, maybe you helped one or two people… but it was only temporary. Soon their problems would return, and they couldn’t hang around forever in one spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was the point of helping people if, really, it didn’t help them at all?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The worst part of it all was seeing how it affected her prince. He never stopped </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but over the long years, a heaviness had crept into an eye once sparkling, </span>
  <em>
    <span>brimming</span>
  </em>
  <span> with an eagerness to change the world, to magically improve everything... only to find out that life wasn’t so kind. If it was, well. Any ordinary kid could have saved the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria knew that. She always had. It was knowledge that came to her as instinctively as her name when she’d awoken to that bloody scene. But Zeke… he had always been too optimistic and </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span> for his own good. Someone had to save him from his own good intentions, and Architect knew nobody else would. Not even his own “family” (word used very loosely).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hell, they’d only ended up like this </span>
  <em>
    <span>because </span>
  </em>
  <span>of people’s cruelty. They’d agreed to travel to Indol to help a mercenary group with culling some Serpronds that had been harassing the Titan. As soon as they got to the woods near Goetuis, that was when… they’d all turned on her while Zeke was away, wanting her power for themselves, and then Zeke had whirled around and seen them </span>
  <em>
    <span>and—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stupid. Stupid stupid </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Blades couldn’t even get </span>
  <em>
    <span>injured, </span>
  </em>
  <span>much less die. Not unless their Core Crystal was damaged. She knew that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew that. Yet he’d still flung himself in front of her, even though she should have been protecting </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria had managed to knock most of them unconscious — if Zeke hadn’t been there, not even ash would have remained of their electrocuted corpses. They’d gotten away, but he was hurt, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>badly hurt, wheezing and stumbling and barely able to breathe, bloody fingers sprayed out against his chest, and then, </span>
  <em>
    <span>then—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lady Pandoria?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands were trembling. Pandoria grappled with them and held them behind her. She wouldn’t show weakness. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Especially not now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” she murmured. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Just </span>
  </em>
  <span>fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan didn’t look convinced; not that Pandoria could blame her. Still, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she didn’t prattle on about some fake concern in that voice both kind and empty. With the way her hands were wringing against her crosier, she… almost looked nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Very well.” She bowed slightly. “Good night. If any emergencies occur, please inform one of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Pandoria said. They both knew she didn’t mean it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, Fan didn’t leave, but instead lingered like a fleeting ghost. Her eyes drifted from Pandoria to Zeke. For a second, if even that, there was a flash of emotion in them, strong and burning, before she shut them with a slight sigh. Her robes shifted melodically with her steps towards the door. The translucent ribbon shimmering around her head would have, to an average person, appeared like a halo, as though she was a goddess or a being from Elysium itself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All it did was creep Pandoria out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only when Fan’s footsteps faded away that she realised that she had never told Fan nor Amalthus her name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t sleep that night.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>After Zeke finally woke up and Pandoria had to remind him that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually, he was a good Driver, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she didn’t want anyone else, and she’d punt him off the Airborne Throne if he dared to think lowly of himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>one more time </span>
  </em>
  <span>(the threat never did work, but it would, some day), he leaned in closely with a frown, hands on his hips, and asked:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pandy, did you sleep at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course I didn’t, you dummy!” She flicked him on the nose and snorted at his over-dramatic reaction. It was a relief beyond words to see him so </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not that she’d ever admit it out loud. It was still so strange to see her Core Crystal in his chest if she squinted and knew exactly where to look. That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. She </span>
  </em>
  <span>was keeping him alive. “You’ve been sleeping enough for the both of us anyway!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was only for a few days!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was almost a week!” Pandoria sighed and rested her elbow on the palm of her hand. “Anyway.” She wagged her finger. “You can’t strain yourself. No excessive exercise for a month. Remember the Praetor's orders!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For a </span>
  <em>
    <span>month!?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zeke cried. “My</span>
  <em>
    <span> throbbing </span>
  </em>
  <span>eye of </span>
  <em>
    <span>shining </span>
  </em>
  <span>justice cannot be contained for a single day, much less</span>
  <em>
    <span> thirty </span>
  </em>
  <span>of ‘em</span>
  <em>
    <span>!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He threw his arm out wide in his usual dramatic way — and immediately winced, hand twitching towards his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For both of their sakes, Pandoria ignored that. “Well, it’s gonna hafta learn how to.” She prodded the right side of his chest. “Isn’t that part of showin’ off how much of a hero you are? Being able to conceal your power until it’s truly needed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm…” Zeke stroked his chin. “You make a fine point, dear Pandy.” He dropped all pretenses and let out a mighty sigh. “A month, though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure we can find </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>for you to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that moment, a beautiful chorus of voices drifted from ahead of them. Pandoria got on her tip-toes and squinted with her hand over her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on over there?” Zeke mused. "Looks like… a choir?'</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria turned to him and grinned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” He put his hands on his hips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bad Blade, no! I know exactly what you’re thinking!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, you have a great singing voice when you actually take it seriously!” She beamed. “I’ll be right back!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pandy, no, don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She went off sprinting and laughing, for with his still-recovering injuries, all Zeke could do was stand there and splutter and flip her the bird, drawing more than a few scandalised gazes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was how Pandoria got her prince enlisted into Indol’s public choir. Apparently they had two different types of choirs; one only for the elite of the elite, the finest young voices around, and while her prince could sing with the best of them, he definitely wasn’t young. The other choir, however, began in an hour or so, and was welcome for anyone and everyone to join to help spread the word of the Architect. Or some drivel like that. Pandoria had honestly stopped listening after the priest said that anyone was welcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>religious!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zeke cried when she told him the good news.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“You don’t have to, like, actually believe in</span> <span>it.” She shrugged. “Look, it’s helping people to stay </span><em><span>inspired </span></em><span>and </span><em><span>motivated </span></em><span>and all of that stuff, right? And all you hafta do is stand there and sing for a few hours! No accidentally rupturing blood vessels involved!”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“You do know that will absolutely happen now that you just said it won’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria clapped her hands together. “Probably!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke’s arm flew out. “Thanks for the support!” His face grew tight, then, the way it always did when he allowed his overthinking to show, and Pandoria mentally braced herself for whatever he was going to say next. She could even </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it in her chest, stronger and more intense than she could before. She’d always been able to get a pretty good read on his emotions; not what he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it was easy to read him even when he tried to act otherwise, and she knew that the opposite was true as well. That he understood her without a word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The difference was like… before, it’d been a dull throbbing. Like you pulled a muscle in your leg and, yeah, you noticed it, but it wasn’t strong enough to be annoying. Now, though, especially when she was standing right next to him, it was like a muscle stitch in your side. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Way </span>
  </em>
  <span>more demanding and difficult to ignore. The difference between Turters nibbling on her clothing and tugging on her hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Okay, so that was a terrible comparison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke still hadn’t said anything, which was kind of worrying. Just as she opened her mouth:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you feel alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Architect, how many people were going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask </span>
  </em>
  <span>her that? Would the Architect himself pop out of nowhere and ask her next?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Really!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Zeke just frowned deeper, his face shadowing. In moments like these, when his eye was dark and he wasn’t acting, he was almost intimidating. “Pandoria,” he said. “I mean it. You’re missing half of your Core Crystal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pumped her fists. “And I mean it too!” Honestly, she should have felt something off, right? She was missing half of herself, for crying out loud! But when she rested her hand over her chest, there wasn’t a sudden lack of energy, or power... or anything, really. She felt exactly the same as she had before — well. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“...Maybe that in itself is concerning, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is.” He crossed his arms. “Maybe it’s because it’s only been, what, a week? Maybe there are side-effects we don’t yet know about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, you could just ask the Praetor, right?” She gripped her elbow. “...Doesn’t seem like the first time he’s done this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh? You think so too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Pandoria’s mind could think of was that missing half of Fan’s Core Crystal — it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be missing. How it cut off at the bottom wasn’t natural. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yet she didn’t seem to show any knowledge of it — hadn’t so much as blinked at Pandoria’s own missing half. Then again, maybe it was exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>because </span>
  </em>
  <span>she was so familiar with it that it didn’t seem odd to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she was missing a half, though… where on Alrest was it? Had she lost it in a fight? She had been around for almost as long as the Praetor had been, and he’d been alive for hundreds of years. Did someone else have it? Did the Praetor have it? Surely not… somebody had to have noticed by now if he had half a Core Crystal shoved into his skin, and. Well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It probably had just been damaged in some fight long ago, and the damaged section was removed to keep her from dying. Or something. It wasn’t like </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>understood the full science behind it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean…” Pandoria shrugged. “You’ve seen his Blade, right? I think she’s missing a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has a Blade?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Oh, right. Her prince had kind of been in a coma. Even if he hadn’t been, Fan hadn’t come back to visit since that night. “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke snapped his fingers. “I remember now! Fan la Norne, right? The ‘Goddess of Indol’, as far as the rumours go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria felt her face twist up. “Do they </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>call her that? I thought Indol weren't huge on Blades.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me neither, but…” He crossed his arms and rested a hand under his chin. “She </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Amalthus’s Blade. Maybe she gets special privileges.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No kiddin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Just as Pandoria went to continue speaking, magnificent bells began to ring out across the courtyard. They watched people of all nationalities, from the Gormotti children to the Ardainian adults, all converge together underneath the beckoning hand of an Indoline priest. The choir that had been singing earlier were all scattered out across the steps as they were handed refreshments and breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooooh, choir time!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke looked like a man who had seen hell itself. “Do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, just give it a go!” She gently rested her hands on his shoulders and gave him a light shove. “You’ll love it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I really won’t.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He easily slid out of her grasp and turned. “What are you gonna do, anyway, while I’m out there bustin’ a lung?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t actually do that.” She laid her elbow on her palm. “I dunno. I’ll probably scout out the place, see what it’s like. Maybe someone sells meat!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do we have the money for meat?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria slapped her hand against one of her jacket's pockets and sighed from relief when some coins clattered in greeting. "We have… some."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'Some' does not necessarily mean 'enough.’"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria just grinned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If anything happens, just give our ether connection a good pull. You'll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fineeeee."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What if Amalthus happens to come out and sees me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was he so fixated on that guy? Yeah, he’d saved their lives, but...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned Zeke around and pushed him lightly on his back. "Then he'll be so inspired and moved by your heartfelt singing that he'll tell us anything and everything we wanna know!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke snorted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Last call for the choir!” called the choir master. Their face looked as if they could have chilled the sun itself to absolute zero. “I repeat! Last call for—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Off you go, little bro!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“‘L-little!?’” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zeke wheezed. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>taller!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m at least five hundred years older than you!” She gave his back another shove. “Hurry up, ‘fore that dude freezes you to death with his eyes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, fine!” Zeke swung an arm out, but he was smiling. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t narrow it down </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She waved at him as she took a skip backwards. “Enjoy yourself!” she sang.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened his mouth, but the choir master’s hand clamped down on his shoulder harder than a sack of stones. Pandoria watched the two of them talk until Zeke bolted over to join the other singers, his moping attitude vanishing faster than lightning as soon as it wasn’t just the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she was sure he was safe, she lowered her hand and allowed the slight crackling of ether to fade. With a final glance backwards, she left the Sanctum.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>It was late morning as Pandoria made her way down the dozens and </span>
  <em>
    <span>dozens </span>
  </em>
  <span>of steps towards the city centre of Goetuis. Not that it was much of a city, really. More of a gigantic church that just so-happened to have a few shops and housing areas attached to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was kind of… ominous. No other Titan had religious worship </span>
  <em>
    <span>nearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>as extensive as Indol. Extensive… and constraining. She hasn't been in Tantal for long, but the similarities were startling. The side-glances she got just for being different — in Tantal, her appearance, the bright colours of her hair and clothing clashing against the dreariness that penetrated every aspect of the people's lives. In Indol, her mere existence as a Blade. She overhead people nudging each other with barely concealed gasps and gossip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Blade! All by itself! Where was its Driver?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if she wasn’t her own person, her own being.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn't like it. Not one bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, it was a pretty enough place. You could tell that there was history buried in these walls, in the blinding white bricks used to construct so much of the city. Barely any of them showed even a hint of wear or age, despite having to be thousands of years old. Indol's Titan was a slowly aging one in comparison to many others, which was impressive given its immense size.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she got further away from Seoris Plaza and the Sanctum itself, though, it definitely started to show its age. Much of the housing in the residential areas had paint chipping and peeling off its crumbling walls. It was still in a lot better shape than, say, the housing districts in Alba Cavanich, where the metal railings had rusted through completely and snapped if you so much as laid a finger on them (as she and Zeke had unfortunately discovered the difficult way. She had spent </span>
  <em>
    <span>two days </span>
  </em>
  <span>looking for him in the Cloud Sea).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By far the largest eyesore though was the refugee camp underneath the magnificent staircase. Pandoria paused at the viewpoint next to the stairs to Poldis Circle and looked down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was miserable. There was no kind way to describe it. Dozens of tiny tents were dotted around the plaza, covered by cloth canopies that time had not been kind to. Even from this high up, she could make out countless moving dots; people, she soon realised, milling about aimlessly. A large huddle of them were underneath the staircase, near what appeared to be the entrance, but most noticeably, a line of them snaked around much of the camp itself, accumulating at a larger tent with crates stacked tall on top of one another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Many of the people looked identical, the same drab shades of dull green and dreary brown, but a splash of familiar white caught her attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh..?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria rested her hands on her knees and crouched down to get a closer look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, in all of her eerie radiance, there stood Fan la Norne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>...Huh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, Pandoria was a curious person by nature, and she had planned to scoop out the entire city. There was no reason to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>go down to see what Fan was doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand rested over the left-hand side of her Core Crystal; or, to be more accurate, over where it had used to be. Her palm remained cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t the only one. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to Fan, ir only for that reason alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that moment, her stomach gave a growl so immense and deep that a couple of Nopon chattering nearby glanced over to her in alarm. She stood up and gave them a sheepish wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Food first, though. She hadn’t eaten for </span>
  <em>
    <span>days.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave a little whistle as they descended the stairs; although few, the stalls they had set up provided a welcome splash of colour from the overwhelming pure white that had been assaulting her eyes for the last week or so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although she didn’t have enough money to buy anything that wasn’t food to begin with, the selection was… lacking. What kind of antiques store only had </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>items on sale, for crying out loud! The tiny Nopon selling books had just as limited a selection, and neither of all two textiles were ones that her prince would have particularly enjoyed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, down the stairs a bit was more promising. The sizzle of cooking meat drew Pandoria like a Nopon to a treasure chest. The Indoline man running the storefront seemed to be deep in prayer, but he gave Pandoria a kind smile as she approached. It was another one of those smiles that made her skin itch and her gaze snap away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was it a thing in Indol to be so — fake? Maybe she was assuming the worst, and these people truly had nothing but good intentions in their heart, but she’d been burnt one too many times to give the benefit of the doubt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Estral Streaks were the cheapest option, so she grabbed a couple of those and told the man to keep the change, then got a few Juicy Samods for her prince from the shop across. The deafening cry of </span>
  <em>
    <span>“May the blessings of the Architect be with you always!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>lingered in her ears as she walked down to the port.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ahead of them towered the World Tree, stretching far above even the heavens themselves. Even if Elysium was all the way at the very top, no way in hell did Pandoria ever fancy climbing that thing. It would take </span>
  <em>
    <span>years! </span>
  </em>
  <span>And if you slipped…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shivered. Would it be possible to die before you even hit the bottom — if there even was a bottom? She wasn’t exactly eager to find out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...And perhaps ‘years’ was a bit dramatic, but still! It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>big.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curiously, next to one of the main wharves was a little Nopon with wares and various groceries spread out on a rug. There were a few tourists gathered around. Pandoria went closer to take a quick look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah — Blade have excellent taste!” the Nopon chirped, bouncing up and down. The cat-like ears of the hoodie she had on — a common accessory of the Gormotti — flapped with her jumps. “Me bring quality products from Torigoth! Only freshest of fresh vegetables here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although Pandoria didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>about greens, especially not compared to meat, it did all look rather fresh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced behind her, as if she could somehow see the refugee camp through the buildings. Did Fan have any breakfast? Had she eaten yet today?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...More importantly, why the hell did she </span>
  <em>
    <span>care? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She didn’t know her! Their one meeting had been freaky!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, she couldn’t shake that nagging feeling, and so it was with a heavy heart and a rapidly emptying wallet that she pointed to the freshest Puri Leaf Salad available. In not even ten seconds, she was walking away with all her food shoved into a paper bag and her pockets weeping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking through Quattor Street, the sense of unease she’d felt earlier grew and morphed into a tightness clenching the bottom of her stomach. At the end of the street stood a priest, doing whatever it was that priests did best, but it was the glares from the refugees as she approached that made her feel ill. They weren’t even attempting to be subtle — the burning hatred in their eyes, the furious furrow of their eyebrows, made her bite her lip and raise her head higher. She couldn’t show weakness. Not to anyone. Even if she knew that these people couldn’t harm her…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memories of those bandits flashed in her mind without warning. Their glinting blades, Zeke’s terrified wide eye, his body covering hers as blood splashed onto her skin—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shut her eyes and stopped — just for a second, just to remind herself to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Everything was fine. She was alive. Zeke was alive. Things were good. If he was in trouble, she’d know. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what if—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. He was singing. Singing! Absolutely no danger or harm involved in that </span>
  <em>
    <span>what-so-ever. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And neither of them were children. Driver and Blade or not, they could spend time away from one another no problem.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She squashed down that childish urge to run back up those stairs and breathed. One deep breath in, out, in, out. When she opened her eyes, a bunch of people turned away from her immediately, attempting — and failing — at being discrete.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She swung her bag onto one hand and left the other one free. Just in case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a good thing she’d done so, because as soon as she crossed underneath the staircase, the huddle of people she’d seen from above turned to her with a snarl that would have left even a sauros reeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ye’re not welcome here!” yelled a large Gormotti man. The hushed whispers of the camp fell utterly silent. Pandoria hid her free hand behind her back. The paper bag of shopping rustled in her arm as she pulled it closer to her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No more Blades!” came a second. “No more war!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without thinking, she stumbled a step backwards. The crowd surged forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-wait—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No more Blades! No more war!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then one voice became two, and two became four, and before she could blink, they were all yelling the same words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No more Blades. No more war.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This had been a terrible idea, but she hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>known. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If she had, she sure as hell wouldn’t have come down here. Would have quite happily skipped it completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But here she was now. </span>
  <b>
    <em>Great </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>going, Pandoria, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought to herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If they laid a hand on her, they’d regret it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No more Blades! No more—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The slam of wood against tile drowned out the crowd’s chants. “That’s quite enough.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>Fan</span><em><span> — Fan? — </span></em><span>lifted her crosier from the ground, face stern. “Lady</span> <span>Pandoria is a special guest of Praetor Amalthus himself. She is to be treated with the same respect as myself, if not greater.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The man from earlier — the one who had started the chants — was suddenly looking very meek as Fan strode past. “B-but — Lady Fan—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed, she came here to assist with the ration distribution service.” Fan stopped in front of her with a kind smile that didn’t at all reach her eyes. The similarity to so many of her prince’s smiles made Pandoria’s already frazzled brain combust even further. “I am correct, yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Her gaze flickered over everyone. Fan, that man, an Urayan woman…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their eyes all held one emotion in common.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Pain.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not anger. Not rage. Not even exhaustion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just… pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yeah, I did.” Pandoria looked back to Fan and nodded. “Sorry for not sayin’ so earlier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s quite alright.” Fan’s smile became secretive, almost mischievous. Pandoria swore she saw a slight twinkle in her eyes before she turned back to the refugees. “And even if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>assisting, is it not right to treat people with kindness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B-but she’s a…”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Lady Pandoria is from Tantal.” At that, people’s eyes widened. They gave one another shocked looks, talking in low murmurs. Pandoria bit her lip. “She may be a Blade, but she had nothing to do with the destruction of your homes. This, I can promise.” Fan clenched her hands together. “And even if she had,</span> <span>the Praetor’s teachings tell us that it is never too late to atone for your sins. To strive for forgiveness and to live a life of happiness.” She smiled with a tilt of her head. “That is all. If you are hungry and have not yet received your rations, you may wait in the line.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>A few of them were still giving Pandoria a look that made her shift on the spot, but most of them slinked off to the long queue. Pandoria's gaze slid from them to the children splashing and squealing in the fountain without a single care in the world. The sprinkles of water glistened in the morning sunlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hand rested on her arm. Pandoria yanked away, hand twitching — Fan's frown greeted her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I’m sorry to spring this on you so suddenly," she murmured. "Most of the refugees here are victims of the countless wars in recent history.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And with wars come Blades, huh." Pandoria lowered her hand. "...Nah, I get it. Thanks for stickin' up for me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn't, not really. Even without Blades, wars would still happen. What about firearms? Titan weapons? Drivers themselves? Were all of those just exempt?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only… these people weren't being rational, were they? They were just lashing out at their closest target, and since they very well couldn't attack their fellow humans… that left the Blades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn't blame them for being this way, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head and forced herself out of her thoughts. Fan was smiling at her — it was a small thing, barely noticeable on her lips, but it shone as clear as daylight in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was incredible, really, how much the eyes expressed. That was why she always made a point to use a bit of her powers to keep her glasses as fogged up to outsiders as she could. She didn’t want any random stranger to what she was thinking, what she was feeling, with just a glance.</span>
</p>
<p><span>"You won't have to help long," Fan continued. "And if you really</span> <span>don't want to, I could come up with some excuse—"</span></p>
<p>
  <span>"I’ll help." It wasn't like she had anything in particular to do today. "Oh, but!" She lifted up the paper bag in her hand with a rustle. "I, uh." This was going to sound so creepy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great job </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>again,</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Pandoria.</span>
  </em>
  <span> "I saw you on my way down and brought some breakfast? 'cause I wasn't sure if you'd had any." Fan was looking at her with wide eyes. "I-I was hungry anyway, so it really wasn't a hassle, but if you've eaten I'm sure I can give it to somebody 'round here—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I haven't eaten." Fan's hand rested on the paper bag, ghosting Pandoria's own. Her body didn't tense up. “I…” She drew her hand back with a quiet, disbelieving laugh and rested it on her chest. “I’m just — surprised. I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>breakfast before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not even her own Driver? Pandoria felt her lips thin. “Well…” She gave a weak grin. “Somebody’s gotta look after the poor sod who looks after everybody else, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s very true.” Fan beckoned out a hand towards the extensive line of people. “We can eat once we’ve fed all of the refugees. If that’s acceptable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Internally, her stomach wept.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some of the children playing in the fountain stopped and gawked at them as they walked past. Pandoria couldn’t tell if it was admiration for Fan or wariness of her. One of them gave a shy little wave, brightening when Pandoria waved back at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan led the way, wiggling through a small gap between a table and crates to get behind, and greeted the priests already there by name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Lady Fan,” said the tallest priest. She glanced over at Pandoria with a polite, tight smile. “...Is this a guest of yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.” Fan’s smile was much warmer. “This is Lady Pandoria.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The priest’s eyes widened. “Ah — Prince Ozychlyrus’s Blade..?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Zeke,</span>
  </em>
  <span> actually.” Oh, he’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>mad right now if he was here. Pandoria had to hold back her grin. “And don’t call me ‘lady,’ either! I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>that old, do I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The poor priest looked as if she was going to explode on the spot. Beside her, face hidden from everyone save Pandoria, Fan looked far too entertained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Very well,” she eventually gritted out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Pandoria. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Your — </span>
  <em>
    <span>assistance, </span>
  </em>
  <span>is greatly appreciated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think nothin’ of it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eye twitched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other priests and Fan were talking some more, but when Pandoria turned to the front, she found herself too busy grimacing at the sorry excuse for food that they had lined up.</span>
</p>
<p><span>It… barely deserved to be called rations.</span> <span>Calling any of this stuff ‘food’ was </span><em><span>really </span></em><span>pushing it. Pots slushing with the most bare-bone soup she had ever seen, pieces of bread that were clearly stale and long past their best-by date, worse quality items of the already-lacking staple foods she’d seen in the shop earlier — leftovers, perhaps… she wouldn’t call herself a picky eater by any definition of the word, but even she would have turned her nose up at this crap.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Still. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. She glanced over to Fan, who already had a soup spoon in her hand, dishing out the first of undoubtedly many bowls to a disgruntled-looking Urayan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing to herself, Pandoria cracked open one of the many supply crates and got to work pulling out plates. None of the priests immediately yelled at her, so she took that as a good sign.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Much of the morning dragged, the clouds slowly drifting across behind Indol’s moving wings while the sky remained that same ordinary shade of blue. Most of the refugees that she served didn’t glare at her, or bite their cheek or act nearly as aggressive as the ones at the protest had. They just… seemed so very exhausted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Resigned. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Accepting of their fate of being handed literal crap on a plate day in, day out, unwilling to do anything for themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a way, that was even worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those dead eyes reminded her so much of Tantal. She had to shove down the anger simmering in her stomach again and again. It wasn’t their fault that they had ended up like this — wasn’t their fault that their entire lives were ruined and destroyed by forces outside of their control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But to not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>to change their lives… to sit there and cry and lash out without doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>for themselves…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was only so much you could do for someone who refused to help themselves. That was one lesson Pandoria had drilled into her, again and again, over the last decade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After what felt like eternity, and shortly after Pandoria discovered the wonderful fact that your stomach tried to eat itself when you were really that famished, the refugees had all been fed. They’d had to give out smaller and smaller portion sizes as the day continued, to the point where Pandoria was handing out slices of bread that could be eaten in a couple of bites. Something was better than nothing, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>still…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were a couple of crates opposite of each other in the back near the wall. The priests insisted on waving them off, saying that they’d do the cleaning up themselves, and Pandoria never was one to turn down another person’s act of generosity. She’d pay them back another time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Food time!” she cheered. Her stomach growled louder than it had all morning when she plopped the bag on the crate to look through it. Behind her, Fan giggled. She was perched delicately on the edge of the other crate, her swinging feet barely touching the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You must have been hungry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Starvin’.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>There it was! Pandoria pulled out the Puri Leaf Salad, which was now somewhat sadly crushed, and twirled around with it. “I got this for you! Sorry if you’re, uh, allergic to anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Salad..?” Fan’s eyes were wide. She leaned forward and took the bowl from Pandoria’s hands. The sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>chill </span>
  </em>
  <span>of her fingertips made Pandoria’s hands shiver. “I… I love salad, actually.” She glanced up at her, still looking as if she’d just seen a ghost. “How did you..? Greens haven't been sold here for a long time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a Nopon merchant just down the street, at the port.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah—- they must have set that up after I’d gone by.” Fan smiled down at her bowl. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.” She moved her smile up directly at Pandoria. She felt her stomach do a strange little flip, a jaunt that she’d never experienced before, feeling like there was a school of Killi-Killi Killifish swimming about inside. It was gross and weird and she didn’t like it. “Thank you, Pandoria.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her cheeks were burning up too! What on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Titan’s foot </span>
  </em>
  <span>was up with her? “Uh… don’t worry about it!” She glanced away, twisting her fingers together. “I mean. It was completely random. I just thought you looked like a leafy kinda person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan tilted her head. “A leafy kind of person, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S-shush!” Pandoria plopped herself down on the crate opposite and tore out the Estral Streaks she’d gotten for herself. They were, sadly, very cold and very sad in her hands, but food was food. Her neglected stomach was cheering. It probably would have been celebrating even if she was about to shove literal Titan shit into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t you heat those up..?” Fan asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria shrugged, one of the streaks already shoved deep into her mouth. It tasted like </span>
  <em>
    <span>heaven. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She was well-aware of how she was probably drooling around it, and it was definitely flopping against her chin, but… Fan just seemed amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, she was kind of surprised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>impressed. Given who her Driver was, she’d been expecting Fan to be stuffy and aloof. While she was definitely the latter, it wasn’t in a necessarily bad way — she was warm and inviting and gentle towards the refugees, yet she had a firm backbone to her. She held her crosier with a confidence that could come only from experience. Yes, she appeared holy and sincere, but Pandoria had no doubt that she could probably give even her a good run for her money in a fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that she, y’know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>much money, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan herself was happily munching away on her salad. There was an odd look on her face, though, that look of incredible </span>
  <em>
    <span>loneliness </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Pandoria had seen wisps of time and time again. When her eyes would shadow and the fork stilled in her hand. A look of longing, almost, for something that you couldn’t put a name to. Like a favourite item whose name you just couldn’t quite remember. It was a feeling that Pandoria had some familiarity with. Not the loneliness, but the longing… yeah. She got that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes she woke up just </span>
  <em>
    <span>missing </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tantal, an ache deep in her heart, even though she remembered very little of it at all. Perhaps it was her past selves, the countless Pandorias that had lived out their entire lives within Theosoir’s icy walls, while she’d had not even a month there. Blades weren’t meant to have any memories from their past lives, but… her mind may not have remembered, but her heart definitely did. She’d known her name upon awakening. She’d known street names and the interior of Theoscaldia Palace without having ever stepped foot inside it before.</span>
</p>
<p><span>She </span><em><span>missed </span></em><span>Tantal. So keenly. It wasn’t as bad now, but when they’d first left, and they were both miserable… it’d been a rough few months. A rough few</span> <span>years. Still </span><em><span>was </span></em><span>rough, if she was being entirely honest with herself.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Man. She’d kill for a Fried Octomayo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they weren’t ever going back to Tantal. That much she was certain of. And armus would fly before Tantal opened its borders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So. No Fried Octomayo for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed, the sound muffled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is something the matter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Pandoria shook her head, the slab of meat slapping her across the face. She hurriedly yanked it out to the sound of Fan’s quiet giggles. How had she </span>
  <em>
    <span>forgotten </span>
  </em>
  <span>about that? “Fine!” she blurted out. “Just thinking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ever…” Her eyes landed on that missing half of Fan’s Core Crystal. Now was as good a time as any. “You’re missing some of your Core Crystal, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan stiffened. It was a minute movement; had Pandoria not been looking right at her, she would have missed it. “Do you think so?” Fan’s fingers curled underneath where it cut off, right where the other half would have been. “I wouldn’t know. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Really?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maybe it wasn’t missing then… still. It was such an odd shape. Pandoria began to nibble on the edge of the second steak. For some reason, she wasn’t feeling hungry, even though she hadn’t had much at all. Her stomach kept doing little flips and flops, especially whenever she looked over at Fan and remembered her little genuine smiles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It just — looked different. I’ve never seen a Core Crystal like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Fan put down her empty bowl on her lap. “I’ve always... “ She bit her lip, looking conflicted, before she gazed up with heavy eyes. “I’ve always felt different from other Blades,” she finished quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers tightened around the bowl. Her legs had stopped swinging. “Forgive me if I’m being too personal, but… when you were awakened, did you — remember anything? Anything at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird </span>
  </em>
  <span>question. “I mean… honestly, I kinda got thrown into the deep end.” She stared at her clenched hands. If she never had to see blood on her prince again, it would be too soon. “But. I dunno. Not really?” She shrugged. “I knew my name. That was… about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan’s eyes further shadowed. She leaned back, retreating into herself. Pandoria could do nothing but watch. “...I didn’t even remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan nodded. “I didn’t… I didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>about myself. Who I was. What weapon I wielded. Not until the Praetor told me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>...Huh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s… weird,” Pandoria blurted out. Fan winced, but, well. She’d never been good at comforting. “I-I mean… </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>Blade knows their name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They do, don’t they?” Fan sighed. “But I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And how was she meant to answer that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If nothing else, though, that explained the feeling Pandoria saw in her eyes. That longing for something she couldn’t even remember.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not knowing your own </span>
  <em>
    <span>name…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder if my name even </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>my name, sometimes,” Fan continued. “I know that’s illogical, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, I get it. I'd be scared too,” Pandoria finished quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of names...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How did you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>name?" she asked, leaning forward with both of her hands gripping the crate’s edge. "Last night. I didn't tell anyone our names."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The Praetor recognised you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He did?" Had she met him before in a previous life?</span>
</p>
<p><span>...Man,</span> <span>that was unsettling to think about.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Fan nodded. Her fingernails idly picked at the rim of her bowl as an awkward silence fell.</span>
</p>
<p><span>Pandoria wanted to break it. She really did. But Fan just stiffened up any time her Core Crystal was brought up, and the last thing Pandoria wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.</span> <span>Was she ridiculously curious? Well, yeah, </span><em><span>duh. </span></em><span>But she knew the difference between someone being hesitant to talk about something and just </span><em><span>not </span></em><span>wanting to talk about it. So she didn’t speak; she shoved as much of her last piece of steak into her mouth as she could and willed her mind to imagine the sweet, delicious, fried batter of her favourite octomayos.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>...It didn’t work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, when she opened her eyes, Fan was giving her a smile that she couldn’t quite fully interpret. It was too fond to be polite, too kind to be laughing at her, and she had no idea how to reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>graceful.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria yanked out the half-eaten steak, pointedly ignored the dibble dipping off it, and wiggled its sad soggy form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want some?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>made Fan burst out laughing. It was a noise she quickly muffled with her hand, but she had her eyes squinted shut. She leaned back, body shaking, dangerously close to toppling over backwards. “I — I think I’ll have to pass, somehow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” She shrugged, trying not to grin herself. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back it went into her own gob, mission completed. Fan was still smiling, her fingers no longer tense and her eyes no longer hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think…” Fan trailed off. Pandoria tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “Would you take me to see that merchant you mentioned earlier when you’re done?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rapidly shoving down the rest of her meal at record speed, Pandoria spat out: “Sufeth thang!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan giggled again. It was a pleasant sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take them long to finish. The priests had all the dishes washed and away, the sky blazing red as the sun began to set — to </span>
  <em>
    <span>set! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just how long had the two of them sat there, talking underneath that canopy? How had Pandoria allowed herself to be so comfortable around someone she barely knew? Sure, Fan seemed trustworthy, but a week ago she’d been lurking about in their room. What if this was part of some plot between her and her Driver? To lure them both into a false sense of security before stabbing them in the back?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Granted, she couldn’t think of a single good reason why they would do so, especially since they had saved their lives, but… people didn’t need a reason, did they? People lashed out over anything and everything. You couldn’t trust them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Fan didn’t seem like that. She just seemed so </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That flash in her eyes the night before when she’d looked between her and Zeke, right before she had left… Pandoria had been too exhausted and on-edge at the time to realise what it was, but she did now:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was envy. Overwhelming, burning </span>
  <em>
    <span>envy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At who, or about what, she could make a guess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ready to go?” came Fan’s quiet voice. “I don’t intend to rush, but… I’m meant to see the Praetor before the sun sets.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mere mention of him made Pandoria’s blood burn so hot that she had to dig her nails into the palms of her hands. She gave Fan a tight smile that, judging from how her own smile fell, wasn’t at all convincing. Compared to her prince, she was a shite liar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She pushed herself off the crate and glanced over to the fountain. At this time of the day, most of the children had retreated into the sorry pieces of fabric that they called a home. Least they </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>a home, had a physical place to belong. Wasn’t like Pandoria could say that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Damn, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed to stop thinking about the Praetor. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in such a sour mood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” she said, and then remembered that she’d already said that. She stretched her arm over her head with a great yawn. “Let’s go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan smiled at her, hands together in front of her. Some of that strained awkwardness from this morning had returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, they started to walk. The warm sunset dyed the white buildings a beautiful shade between red and orange, like the petals on a blooming Saffronia tree. Pandoria found herself in awe at the sight; when she tore her eyes away to look at Fan, Fan’s smile was tender.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her cheeks reddened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Nopon was beginning to pack up her wares, but she brightened and waved her ears at them. “Meh meh! Lightbulb Blade has brought goddess Blade!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...'Goddess?'” came Fan’s quiet voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“'Lightbulb!?'” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria squawked. As if to spite her, her tail chose that moment to spark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If Blade lovely dovelies want food, me have little left!” Indeed, her rucksack had a significant amount of empty space inside of it, with only a few wrapped up plates inside. “Friend want Puri Leaf Salad from before? Still some left!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah... “ Fan nodded. “That would be wonderful — if it’s not a bother, of course!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goddess being silly!” Pandoria didn’t miss how Fan winced ever-so-slightly. “For you, will sell countless Puri Leaf Salads… given enough money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>have enough…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as Pandoria was about to speak, she felt it — a slight tug at her ether link. She felt her skin freeze and burn simultaneously, her stomach twist so violently she almost barfed there and then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I need to go,” she blurted out. At Fan’s fallen face: “Sorry! But I’ll definitely talk to you later!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t know why she had said that. It wasn’t as if she was particularly attached to Fan. How could she be, when they’d known each other for not even a day?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Fan’s smile was blinding; her eyes slid shut and she gave a slight tilt of her head, showing the most joy as Pandoria had ever seen her display. “I look forward to it!” She gave a cute little clap of her hands as Pandoria jogged off with a wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her boots pounded the ground as she sprinted up countless steps two at a time, not apologising to any of the passersby she shoved aside. Seoris Plaza soon came into view. Her heart was in her throat — she didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything off, but all her brain could conjure was Zeke’s hand falling limp against the ground with that quiet damning</span>
  <em>
    <span> thud,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his cooling corpse growing ever-heavier on her back—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There he was, very much alive, very much beaming at Pandoria as she stopped in front of him. The choir seemed to have finished for the day, judging from the dispersed people, Indolines and Gormotti and Urayans alike, all standing around idly and chatting to each other. She rested her hands on her thighs and took great deep breaths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You — you’re okay!” she breathed out. She took another long breath before looking up. “What’s… up?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“I. Uh.” Zeke rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I have a sore throat from all this singin’,</span> <span>yeah? Was kinda hopin’ our new magical connected powers would tell you to get me a drink.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief flooding her, Pandoria leaned on her tip-toes to give his nose a good flick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I SAID FOR </span>
  <em>
    <span>EMERGENCIES </span>
  </em>
  <span>YOU DOOFUS!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan probably would have laughed at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Why was she thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fan?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something up, Pandy?” His face softened. “I’m jolly sorry for making you worry like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothin’! And don’t sweat it.” She flung her paper bag of food at him, snorting when it smacked him square in the face and he scrambled to catch it. “Here’s some food, before you starve away and lose what few muscles you have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“‘Few!?'” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zeke flexed his free arm, seeming to forget that his biceps were covered by sleeves. “Do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>like I’m lacking muscles to you!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Given that I can’t see any of them? Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t see ‘em!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Through your </span>
  <em>
    <span>gazillion </span>
  </em>
  <span>belts? Not a chance!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nine!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He prodded his stomach. “Only nine!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“‘Only!?’”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Okay, so maybe a few more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You doofus.” She lightly swatted his arm, voice lowering. “C’mon. Let’s get inside and eat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” Zeke pulled out a Juicy Samod and began to munch on it. “Thanks for this, by the way. Tell me about whatcha got up to today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They fell asleep not long after he’d finished eating and she told her story — not that there was much to tell. She didn’t say anything about the Blade protest. No point further worrying him when he was still recovering from having </span>
  <em>
    <span>died. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And the stuff about Fan just felt too personal. She barely knew her. Had Fan just been keeping that stuff bottled up inside, for hundreds and hundreds of years, that it all came gushing out at the first person who seemed to view her as a person and not as a goddess, or some crap like that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t forget that look in her eyes. That dreadful, awful, loneliness. That envy. All of those emotions that she didn’t seem to allow herself to feel at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Maybe she’d go back tomorrow. Surely Fan would appreciate the help.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria did return tomorrow, and the day after. Before she knew it, she’d spent an entire week helping Fan with ration distributions. They didn’t really get to hang out afterwards, for Fan always seemed to be busy with one thing or another. That first morning had been the anomaly rather than the norm, and after how much she’d said — about herself, her memories — she seemed to have clammed right up. It was like locking the stable gate after all of the armus had already bolted. Pandoria </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She knew stuff that Fan’s own Driver didn’t seem to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of Amalthus; for some reason, he seemed to be spending a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>of time with Zeke. Pandoria had glanced up, on more than one morning, to see the two of them talking on the viewing platform overhead, usually around the time when the choir was taking a break. Truthfully, she didn’t trust Amalthus one bit, but Zeke seemed to have taken an odd shine to him, and she trusted </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>to not do anything stupid. Besides, if Amalthus hurt a single hair on his head, Praetor or not, having </span>
  <em>
    <span>saved </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zeke’s life or not, Pandoria would gladly electrocute every single bone in his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Pandy. I had a thought.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke flicked at her a crumb of the Wrapped Glarna Bake he had been nibbling on. It bounced off the tip of her nose and landed on her lap. “You know how we’ve been usin’ the Big Bang Wand, right? As sazzy as it is, don’t you think it’s a little… </span>
  <em>
    <span>small </span>
  </em>
  <span>for a big guy like me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not that tall, doofus.” She flicked the crumb into her mouth. Unsurprisingly, it was stale. “Whatcha gonna do, anyway? Generate a whole new part to go with it or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke’s grin widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>thinking that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I was!” he cried. He thrust his arm out, sending the bake he’d been eating flying out of the window like a bunnit that had just been launched to its doom. Scrambling to the window, they both peered out just in time to see it solidly </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk </span>
  </em>
  <span>a poor priest on the head. They ducked out of view before they could look up and summon the Architect’s divine wrath on them. Or something. “Like — a sword!" he hissed from the opposite end of the windowsill. "A </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>cool sword!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lemme guess — one bigger than you, probably?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ruffled his hair and grinned, dancing away from his arm just in time. If he was in his normal tip-top shape, no doubt he could have knocked her to the ground before she even blinked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You go work on that, ‘kay?” She generated her weapon and threw it at him. “If you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>get </span>
  </em>
  <span>something… colour me surprised.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke caught the wand easily. “Oh, you wound me, Pandy.” He clutched the weapon against his chest with a sigh. “I mean, if I have part of your core, I should be able to use some of your powers, right? Just you watch!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, uh, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>watch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His grin shrinked from dramatics to a smirk. “Oh? Hangin’ out with the ‘Goddess of Indol’ yet again, are we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S-shut up! Don’t word it like that!” She elbowed him. “I’ve seen you with the Praetor! The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Praetor!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah.” Frowning slightly, Zeke crossed his arms and rested his chin on his hand. “He’s an interestin’ chap, that’s for sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s all you have to say about him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged. “It’s been, what, a week? I’m sure we’ll be here for a while yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Longer than a month, you mean?” she asked with her own frown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” He let out a quiet sigh. “We’ll see.” Before she could speak, he looked over at her and lowered his arm. “How is she, anyway? Fan, I mean. She bein’ alright to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Oh, yeah. She’s real nice.” Pandoria rested a hand over her Core Crystal. She swore, sometimes, that she could still feel the warmth of that missing half. Like the type of phantom pain that people who’d lost limbs described. Sure, to them, it may only have been a small part of their body, but to her, to any Blade… it was as vital as a heart. She may not have noticed any side-effects so far, but that didn’t change the fact that she still </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...What’s up, Pandy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That obvious, huh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She swallowed and let out a small sigh. Zeke’s eye was watching her keenly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She seems — I dunno. Lonely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke’s hand went under his head. “You think so?” He smiled, suddenly, the tenderness of it completely catching her off-guard. “You go and spend time with her, then. Must be nice to have a friend outside of ol’ me, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I’m not—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand rested on the spot directly under her shoulder. “Pandoria,” he said, and there was his serious voice again. That true voice that she both loved and hated to hear. “You’ve spent your entire existence around me. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to meet other people, to have other friends. It’s not healthy for either of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re my Driver, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t matter!” he hissed. He bit his lip, a heavy sigh escaping from his nose as he gently squeezed her bicep. “As much of an arshole he is, I still had my old man growing up. I had the citizens of Tantal and a bunch of people from all the sneakin’ off I did. You don’t have any of that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mind—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course you don’t. You don’t know any different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria leaned back slightly. Zeke removed his hand and she crossed her arms. "Lemme get this straight." She pushed up her glasses. "You're tellin' me to go exercise my free will… and you're trying to force me to do so. Isn't that kinda defeating the entire point of what you're saying?"</span>
</p>
<p><span>"I…" Zeke rested his hands on his hips and glanced away. "Well. Yes.</span> <span>But it'll be good for you."</span></p>
<p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know." </span>
  </em>
  <span>She flicked his nose. "Stop bein' so serious, 'kay?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other friends, huh..? She wouldn't have gone so far as to call Fan a </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but… maybe that's what Fan saw her as.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tug on our connection if you need anything," she said. "And </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make it an actual emergency and not—" She rested a hand on her forehead and pretended to swoon— "'oh, woe-is-me, I cannot jabber on with my massive gob because of a slightly sore throat.'"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, his hand did lightly swipe her before she could get away. But he was beaming, his frown poorly concealing his laughter, and Architect knew that her own laugh was uglier than a Tirkin's.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fact that they even </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>be laughing like this, after everything that had happened… was good. It was wonderful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Off ya go, chum!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Goin', goin'!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oi — wait!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria whirled around. "You just told me to—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turters thudded against her collarbone. Were it not for her lightning (heh) fast reflexes, he would have been a scrambled, cracked mess of a turtle on the ground. Tragically, Indol's flooring was not suitable for turtle dropping of any variety.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go take 'im out for a bit, yeah? Poor fella can't really sing. And don't forget to feed him!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ugh — </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria gingerly put him into one of the pockets in the lining of her jacket. "See ya!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled at her. "Have a good day, Pandy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled back. "You too. Don't do anything stupid!"</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria was so worried that she was going to be late (although</span>
  <em>
    <span> why </span>
  </em>
  <span>she was so stressed about that was something she didn’t quite understand) that she ended up arriving there before Fan did. A lot of the refugees gave her far more blatant glares and sneers, now that she didn’t have Fan to buffer them, but she found herself not minding as much as she would have done even only a week or two ago. These people just needed a target to lash out at. Yeah, it was pathetic how they clung to their hatred and refused to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything for themselves, but… that was just how people were. They still deserved compassion. They still deserved kindness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was helping a priest scrub down the trays and bowls when Fan arrived. She looked as unrefined as Pandoria had ever seen her, her hair sticking up and her robes not quite as flawless and regal looking as they usually were. Indeed, she was tugging at them as she came up to them with a jaunt too fast to be a walk, too slow to be a sprint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Pandoria!” she called. “What brings you here so early?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I was worried about bein’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>late, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but—” She twirled the soup spoon in her hand and pointed it towards Fan’s flustered face— “guess I didn’t need to sweat it, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to be late,” Fan said. She gripped her hands together, but before Pandoria could tell her that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t need to apologise—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re early, Lady Fan,” piped up the priest. “Lady Pandoria here is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>early.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“O-oi!” A pause. “And I told you to not call me ‘Lady!’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan’s eyes widened, before she broke into a soft smile. “It’s wonderful to see you warm up to this as much as you have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, for crying out— “I’m not early for </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘em,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she muttered. “I’m not nearly that selfless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Fan tilted her head to the side, looking confused again. “But why else—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I’m not spellin’ it out for you!” Her cheeks burning bright red for some reason, Pandoria turned back to rubbing dry the dishes. Why was she </span>
  <em>
    <span>getting </span>
  </em>
  <span>like this, for crying out loud!? She had no problem teasing Zeke and being soft with him when it really mattered — those rare moments when they needed to hear reassurance, that, yes, I love you, and you love me, and we’re family. Why did she struggle so much with spitting out that, yeah, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked </span>
  </em>
  <span>spending time with Fan? That she looked forward to doing this each morning, and, if possible, she’d like to spend more time with her outside of this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>See! She’d said it in her head </span>
  <em>
    <span>no problem. </span>
  </em>
  <span>So why did her heart skip a beat when she looked at Fan and saw her smile — her genuine smile, the one where her eyes shut and wrinkled at the corners, her hand held over her mouth?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turters was giving her a judgemental look from where he was lying down next to the sink. Pandoria may or may not have splashed a bubble on him. He gave a shake of his head and increased his levels of condemnation before lying back down.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Oh, wow!”</span> <span>Fan cooed. Pandoria turned around, only to be whacked in the face by Fan’s weird yellow ribbon head thing that turned out to be surprisingly solid. “Who’s this?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“That little guy?” Pandoria grinned. “That’s Turters! He’s like our little mascot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>adorable.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fan was crouched down in front of him so that they met eye-to-eye, towel slung over her arm, forgotten. Slowly, at a speed that would have put Turters himself to shame, she held out a finger in front of him. And at an even slower speed, Turters inched forward to butt his face against it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan </span>
  <em>
    <span>squealed. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was the only word Pandoria could have used to describe the high-pitched noise that came out from between her lips. Even the priest behind them looked alarmed at such a sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, aren't you the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cutest?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fan asked. She clutched her hands to her chest, still beaming that dazzling smile that Pandoria couldn't look away from. She turned her head around to face Pandoria. "Where does he come from? How old is he? Can he eat any of this food? Can he—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whoa whoa </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoa." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria held up her hands. “One question at a time!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fam wilted, wringing her hands together as she stood back up to her full height. “S-sorry,” she murmured. “You don’t see many animals around here, so… I saw a Phonex a short while ago, but it ran away when I tried to stroke it.” She squeezed her hands tight. “I’m not very good with animals, am I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Guilt squeezed around Pandoria’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...He’s from Leftheria.” Pandoria bent down to see if Turters wanted attention, but he wasn’t having any of it. “And I really don’t know, honestly? We’ve had him for about eight years, so he’s not a baby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Face brightening, Fan tapped her finger against her chin. “Unless… he’s been replaced by an identical doppelganger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria gasped and clapped her hands together. “No way! That would explain why he’s always remained so teeny tiny!” She pointed two fingers at her eyes before throwing them at Turters. “I’m watching you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Faker.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turters blinked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Imposter or not, he pretty much looks the same, soooooo…” She swung her arms out. “No point worryin’ about it! And as for food… I dunno. One way to find out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>feeding him soup,” Fan insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about... putting him into the soup?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is that any better!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Turtle soup </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound pretty tasty…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t he your </span>
  <em>
    <span>mascot!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite her words, Pandoria didn’t really want to have turtle soup, mainly because Turters would only be consumed in a truly life-or-death situation, with extreme regret and sorrowful music in the background. Definitely violins and a sad piano melody. Maybe some bells if they had the budget.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ended up serving perfectly bland and ordinary food that any citizen of any other Titan would have wrinkled their nose up at. At first, all Pandoria had been able to see was the pain and apathy in so many of the refugees’ eyes, but she was noticing other emotions, too. Kinder ones. Many of the children always said </span>
  <em>
    <span>“please” </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>“thank you!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>and called her Miss. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Miss! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Way to make her feel old!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite having been born into this life and most likely dying in it, they still had that sparkle of hope in their eyes. That naive, endless optimism, the speckles of emotion that had already been fading like smoldering embers in her prince’s eye when they first met.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They hadn’t yet learnt about the harshness of reality, and she found herself… oddly protective of that futile hope. If she gave them a bit extra in the way of rations and even let the really polite kids give Turters a quick pet, well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nobody needed to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were multiple times when Pandoria found herself looking up at Fan, and each time, she was looking right back at her, with a smile so soft and warm that she didn’t know what to do with it. Every time they locked eyes, Fan would turn away quickly with red cheeks. Pandoria didn’t get it, and especially didn’t get why her own cheeks always burned as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Titan’s foot, if she was getting sick…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, Fan had no other duties. They helped the priests out with cleaning the dishes and cutlery before grabbing lunch from Calceno Deli. At this time of day, most of the tourists were at the Sanctum itself, and so they found themselves at an empty Milama Viewpoint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They chattered about nothing meaningful as they ate. When Fan finished off her snack, she turned to Pandoria.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said softly, “for helping out so much with the ration distribution. I’ve been doing it for a long time…” She tilted her head with that damned smile of hers, the one that made Pandoria’s stomach all itchy and gross. “It’s wonderful to have help.” She turned back to the horizon, still smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The polite answer would have been to smile back and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>“of course I’m honoured to help”. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But Pandoria had never been any good at being polite, and always too good at being honest, so those were not the words that came out. Instead:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan seemed to pause mid-blink, her hands freezing over the railing. She sharply turned. “...Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria swallowed. Better out than in, she supposed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just this… stuff.” She gestured over the camp. “It’s not a real solution, y’know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan bit her lip, glancing down. “It’s better than doing nothing at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But this… isn’t fixing anything,” Pandoria muttered. She caught sight of a parent shouting at their son and felt her hand clench tight around the railing. “They still have no housing. They don’t have a home. All you’re doing is giving ‘em some food. That’s not gonna sort anything out. They come back here, day after day, asking for more and more. Nothin’ you ever do will be enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan frowned. She rocked back and forth slightly, still gripping the railing. “Maybe not,” she eventually said, “but I would rather do what little I can than stand back and do nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re gonna run out of food </span>
  <em>
    <span>eventually.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it so wrong to want to show kindness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Depends on why you’re doing it.” Turning, Pandoria rested her behind on the railing next to Fan and crossed her arms. “Are you doing it ‘cause you genuinely want to? Or because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s what you should do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For several seconds, there was nothing save for the gentle crackling of the flame behind them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, Fan’s hands curled into fists as she moved them to her side. Pandoria had to resist the urge to apologise. Not when she wouldn’t have really meant it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was her main problem with Indol’s religion from what she had seen of it so far. Religion by itself wasn’t an inherently bad thing. To assume so was just ridiculous. The Tantalese’s own wisdom of the hero Addam could certainly be considered borderline religious, almost fanatic, and Architect knew that it was virtually the only thing keeping the people motivated. The only thing keeping them alive, amongst the eternal cold and poverty and all of Tantal’s other endless problems.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But you shouldn’t do stuff if you didn’t really believe in </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Their teachings of atoning and treating others with kindness came across as suffocating at the best of times and drowning at the worst. How many people following them were only performing acts of kindness because they felt as though they should? Not because they </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, so they had the same end goal, and she knew that most people wouldn’t agree with her. But… people’s facades could only stretch so far. Their shining masks of virtue could only be worn for so long before darkness began to creep through the cracks. You always had to watch out for the eyes. How many times had she met people who smiled and laughed and extended an olive branch, only to snap that branch in half when it all became a bit too much?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan still hadn’t spoken. Her fists shook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t doubt </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>intentions,” Pandoria said. That much was true. If anything, Fan was too kind and too soft for her own good. Definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>something she’d gotten from her Driver. “I just mean. Like… in general. A lot of people use that kinda stuff as a mask, y’know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her words felt deafening in the silence between them. Far below, the echoes of children playing and the shouts of the anti-Blade protestors were like two different worlds colliding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think I don't know that?" came Fan's chilled voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria blinked. "Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Fan looked up, her eyes burning. "Do you think I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>everything you've told me? I've been in this life for almost five hundred years." She rested a fist over her chest, her fingers outlined by the faint glow of her Core Crystal. "No Blade should live for that long. I have watched children grow old and die. I have looked after the refugee camp for all of that time. I have seen the worst in people, again and again, just as I have witnessed their best."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laid her fist down. "Every day, despite living for an eternity in this dying world, I choose to be kind. Not because of my religion. Not because of Amalthus. But because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to." She shook her head. "Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. Choosing to be generous, to believe in the goodness of others, when you have seen the state of humanity again and again and </span>
  <em>
    <span>again — that </span>
  </em>
  <span>is strength. That is what I believe."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The state of humanity..? Did even Fan believe that people — that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alrest </span>
  </em>
  <span>— were beyond saving?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan's face softened. "You are not a child, Pandoria. But neither am I. I don't need to be coddled."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How do you not grow</span>
  <em>
    <span> tired?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pandoria picked at a flaking chip of rust on the railing. "After all these years. You still carry out your duties, even though you must have done this stuff thousands and thousands of times."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am tired." Fan closed her eyes. "But these people need me. That is enough. They will always need me." She let out a bitter laugh, the sound so foreign coming from her lips that it made the hairs on Pandoria's skin stand on edge. "The 'Goddess of Indol.' How I loathe that title."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled, eyes still shut, but it held none of her usual kindness. When she glanced up, for a second — if even that —all Pandoria could see was that same smile Amalthus had given her when she’d awoken that night. That exact same upwards twitch of the lips that contained nothing, nothing at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Pandoria whispered. “I’d hate it too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sky was beginning to turn orange as, in the east, the sun sank beneath the Cloud Sea. Pandoria raised her eyes to the sky and watched the clouds darken along with the wings of Indol. Behind the blankets of clouds, in the far, far distance, as Alrest was delved into darkness, the World Tree’s branches brightened. There was something poetic in that, she was sure. She’d always wondered what the circles of bright blue circling it were. Ether?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t matter, really. It wasn’t as though she’d ever get close enough to see for herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think Elysium exists?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria startled so much she almost toppled over the railing. Indeed, if Fan’s hand hadn’t grabbed her jacket in time, she probably would have ended up head-first in some poor soul’s tent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright!?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>It was, selfishly, a relief to hear the panic in her voice — she’d take </span><em><span>any </span></em><span>emotion over that horrible bitterness, over that smile and those eyes. Yes, a Blade often took after characteristics of their Driver, but… not like that. </span><em><span>Not like that.</span></em><span> That wasn’t who Fan really was,</span> <span>she was sure.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>But spending five hundred years being any one person’s Blade… that had to have had one hell of a bad effect. That wasn’t meant to happen. Normal Indoline weren’t even meant to live for that long. Most of them were lucky to break over two hundred and a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So why..?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now wasn’t the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I’m fine!” she spluttered. She threw Fan a grin and a thumbs-up. “But thanks!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan rested a hand over her chest, letting out a relieved sound. “Thank goodness... I didn’t mean to startle you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Naaaaah, don’t sweat it.” She waved her hand and leaned on the railing again. “I was just thinkin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria rested her chin on her hand. “What about you? Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>think Elysium exists?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan made a surprised noise. She looked down at Pandoria — she was just a tiny bit taller — for a long while before sighing and looking up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think…” Fan’s hand curled around the railing. “I think that if Elysium did exist — if the Architect truly did care about us — he would have saved us long before now.” She lowered her head. “I know that would be hearsay for most to hear, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I get it.” Pandoria rested her hand on top of Fan’s. It felt like the right thing to do. “Alrest is dying. I… think I agree. The Architect exists. I just… I don’t think he cares.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a confession she wouldn’t have made to anyone else, but it was the truth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to have created the Titans, the Blades, all of the countless species that lived on Alrest. Whatever that something was, it didn’t seem to care about the fact that all of its creations was dying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fan didn’t say anything. When Pandoria looked at her, she had her eyes clenched shut, her lip wobbling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without a noise, she turned back to the orange-streaked horizon. She wasn’t used to comforting, not like this, but she looped her fingers through Fan’s and squeezed tight, staring ahead as she heard sniffs and hiccups beside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced over, just once, and the glisten of Fan’s tears on her cheeks was almost beautiful in the dying sunlight. They were blown away by the gentle wind passing through the sunset sky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Swallowing down everything in her throat, her mouth, her stomach, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere, </span>
  </em>
  <span>all of these weird and complicated emotions that just made her feel sick because she couldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pandoria stood there in silence and allowed Fan to quietly break down for as long as she wished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were there until long after the stars had begun to shine.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Zeke came in to Pandoria lying face down on the bed, her head buried in her arms. She only noticed when the bed dipped considerably next to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His warm hand rested on the middle of her back. “Something happen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fan happened, huh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’m becoming sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Throwing out her arms, Pandoria rolled over with a dramatic groan — and yelped when her body fell and smacked the ground. Zeke didn’t laugh, but she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>his amusement, even as she continued to stare into the darkness and wondered if she could stay here forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Showing extreme sympathy as always, Zeke’s boot toed her side. “C’mon, Pandy. Up and at ‘em.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nooooooo.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another toe tap. “Keep this up and I’ll actually think it’s something serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was, despite his words, a hint of concern in his voice, and one that Pandoria could feel rattling the ether link between them. That thing had </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>gotten more intense. With a grunt, she threw herself onto her feet and promptly collapsed on the bed next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jolly good!” Zeke grinned. “Now I don’t need to go and get Fan—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—unless you just wanna see her anyway—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nooooo!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke snorted with his laughter. “So your mood </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do with her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria absolutely did not pout. “...That obvious, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only to your big brother!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure we’ve well-established that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>older.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of bantering further, Zeke just patted the space between them, in a “you better start talking” matter. Pandoria very much did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>feel like talking, but the last thing she wanted to do was worry Zeke, and she knew that she should.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I feel — like. I dunno. My stomach gets all </span>
  <em>
    <span>flippity </span>
  </em>
  <span>around her and I start stressin’ out about what to say, ‘cause I don’t wanna make her think I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird </span>
  </em>
  <span>or anything. But then she does stuff like get bubbles on her face or eats her food really messy and I just find it cute? How the hell is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I get all sweaty and feel hot and cold and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandoria gripped his hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I think I’m ill.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke squeezed back, his face grave. “You sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beat of silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Which warrants the question of why I’m still holdin’ your hands.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Can Blades even</span> <span>get sick!?” Pandoria pleaded, utterly ignoring the increasing worry on her prince’s face about his own safety. “Can </span><em><span>you </span></em><span>even get sick anymore!? I’ve never gotten sick before! I didn’t think Blades could!”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>But what else could explain all of this? Zeke had never mentioned feeling anything like this before, and if he had, Pandoria was sure she would have felt it as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s one of these side-effects,” he murmured. “From you missin’ some of your Core Crystal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Getting sick is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>side-effect!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Talk about the cherry on top of the cake! Pandoria, once again, threw herself on the ground and burrowed her face as deeply as she could into the carpet. It was one of the better carpets she’d laid down on, soft and well-threaded and smelling fresh. These rooms must have been scrubbed down fairly often.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...All the better for her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well." Zeke flopped down on the ground next to her and mimicked her position. A deep noise of approval, no doubt at the carpet’s quality, left his throat. "If I fall ill tomorrow, at least we know that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Urgh.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turters, too, flopped out of Pandoria’s pocket in the gap between them. If any priests walking past — not that there should have been — were to peer in, they would have seen the three of them face-first against the ground as the sun set outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, while Pandoria was counting the dazzling white spots that had started to appear from how tightly she had her eyes screwed shut, she heard the shuffling of Zeke throwing himself onto his feet—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ouch! Bloody ‘ell!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Were she not embracing the stygian embrace of the void, she would have laughed. As it was, she made no noise at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pandy, oi, stop mopin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not mopin’,” she mumbled mopingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a crackle of thunder, a flash of lightning blinding her dready world into oblivion — it was the flood of ether in the air, </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>ether, that had her scramble onto her knees. She hadn’t used it </span>
  <em>
    <span>— Zeke </span>
  </em>
  <span>had, and—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grinning, Zeke spun the Big Bang Wand in his hand before resting it on his shoulder. Only — it couldn’t be called a wand, not with the gigantic blade now on its end that Pandoria had </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not conjured herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Behold!” he bellowed, swinging it off his shoulder. “The Purple—” The blade’s edge barely avoided poor Turters— </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Lightning—” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The head of the bed gave a painful-sounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>twang </span>
  </em>
  <span>as the blade smashed into it— </span>
  <em>
    <span>“DREAMSMASHER!!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a great </span>
  <em>
    <span>POP!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria winced and covered her head. She glanced up once the distinct scent of sizzling reached her nostrils—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right at the impressive streak of black that now stretched across much of their room’s ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That. Um. Cor </span>
  <em>
    <span>blimey.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Zeke squinted at the smoking ceiling, holding a hand over his eye. “That’s a whopper of a scorch mark, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we might need to work on that.” She flashed him a thumbs-up. “Love the name, though!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks!” He beamed. “I spent all day thinkin’ of it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>why you came back so late!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just continued grinning cheek-to-cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe we should go for something a bit shorter, though.” With her bad mood banished as swiftly as it had come, Pandoria sat on the edge of the bed. A snoozing Turters was safely cradled in her palm. “And a bit closer to the original name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zeke flopped on the bed opposite of her’s with a great, almighty pout that even children couldn’t hope to replicate. “But you just said it’s awesome!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And it is!” She laid Turters on the bedding and held out her hands. “Gimme. I wanna see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grunting, but relenting, Zeke did just that. As it went from his one hand to her two, she almost dropped forward with it from how unexpectedly heavy it was. She recovered in time and coughed, ignoring her prince’s light sniggers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a magnificent blade, and not something she ever would have conjured by herself. For as long as she had existed, she’d only ever used a wand and mainly wielded the ether in the air through its influence. Zeke had done that, but he’d also always been a tad… hands-on, loving to smack monsters despite Pandoria’s exasperated warnings that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t use it for that. The sword was outlined with the same electric blue she so often used, the blade itself a blue so dark it was almost black, save for the faintly glowing irregular lines of ether. They branched out in a fashion that reminded her vividly of the types of scars people got on their skin after being electrocuted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a slot at the bottom for where her wand seemed to act as a handle. Resting the blade on the ground, Pandoria beamed when she was able to slide out her familiar wand with ease.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is</span>
  <em>
    <span> so </span>
  </em>
  <span>cool,” she murmured. “And I can still use my wand!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was the hardest part, honestly.” His smile was small but soft. “I’m glad it worked out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still in awe that you made something like this.” She pushed her wand back in with a gentle click. “It’s mind blowing — seriously!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pandy. You’ll make me blush.” He raised a hand over his face and glanced away, the way he always did when he got genuinely embarrassed by something — usually whenever they were being sincere with one another and not just joking around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Names, names…” Pandoria rested a hand under her chin. “How about the ‘Big Bang Edge?’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They laid the Big Bang Edge against the wall between their two beds and got ready to sleep for the night. Zeke seemed distracted, his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, but Pandoria knew that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wiped. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If something was really bothering him, he’d let her know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“G’night, Pandy,” he said as she flicked off the ether lamp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Night. Sleep well!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a tragic twist, Zeke did not fall ill the next morning, and so Pandoria was left at step one again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surely it wasn’t possible to feel nauseous by just thinking of someone, but what else explained all of these feelings only emerging when she thought of Fan? Of her unyielding kindness even while fully acknowledging their dying world?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of her eyes, both empty and brimming, a lamp that somehow shone both dark and bright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pandoria didn’t know. But, if she spent more time with her, maybe she could find out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[<a href="https://twitter.com/greenpiggles">twitter</a>]</p>
<p>thanks for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a kudos and/or comment, thanks so much!! have a great day~</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>